My Master's Mirror
by ThePet
Summary: Six years post-TPM. A story of mirrors...parallels of life and death: the death of a Jedi Master, a Padawan's jealousy, and a gifted young man's fall into darkness. 3 UP
1. Prologue

The Senate building of Kreanon Prime: a three thousand year old piece of architectural genius, its slender spires rising majestically above pale green clouds, its sombre grey stone relieved by endless rows of bright windows.   
The Chief Minister of Kreanon Prime: Kohhlius, a tall, wiry, red-skinned male with a shock of white hair, and a gentle, genial manner concealing a wit as sharp as a lightsabre. Intelligent, courageous, uncorrupt - the best thing to happen to Kreanon in centuries.  
  
The Senate building, defiled, destroyed, glass exploding from its windows, spires crumbling to the floor, filling the air with dust that mingles with the green chemical smoke born of the explosion. The Chief Minister, lying dead in a mangled heap at the foot of what had once been the grand staircase, his lifeless yellow eyes fixed and staring, an expression on his face beyond horror, worse than fear...the face of a man betrayed by his own people.  
Screams rending the air, cries of pain, fear, and yes, betrayal; howls of loss and grief. Amidst the confusion, two figures, their faces half-hidden by breathing apparatus, crawl among the ruins, searching for wounded survivors, bringing the terrified Kreanon Ministers and citizens to safety through the swirling grey and green smog. Two Jedi Knights performing the duties they were born to, but nonetheless, their thoughts not with the shocked strangers they assisted, but with the remainder of their party, missing somewhere within the wreck of the Senate. One young Knight and three Padawans trapped inside; two Knights attempting to maintain their serenity in the face of terrible loss.  
  
It was the younger Knight, Obi-Wan Kenobi, who found his Padawan first. Fifteen year old Anakin Skywalker was sprawled unconscious upon what had been the first landing of the grand staircase; it had slipped sideways and tilted at a fearsome angle, some twelve metres above the ground. Kenobi, gesturing to his companion, Jedi Grandmaster Sendar Varen, to keep searching for survivors, steeled himself and began to climb the damaged stairs, stumbling as the staircase swayed beneath him, saved several times only by his Jedi reflexes. Anakin was still alive...but growing weaker. Although he could not even see his apprentice through the obscurity of the smoke, Kenobi sensed this much through the lesser obscurity of the Force.  
Reaching the landing, Kenobi knelt quickly beside the injured boy. Anakin was pale, his short blonde hair full of green dust, blood caked on the smooth forehead where a piece of stone had struck him. As Obi-Wan touched the boy's hand and called his name silently, blue eyes fluttered open, and the apprentice tried to take a breath. Kenobi swiftly took the breathing mask from his own face and placed it over the boy's mouth; Anakin took several grateful, gulping breaths, gripping his master's hand. The staircase shuddered. Obi-Wan scooped up the boy in his arms and began the perilous descent to the barely safer ground floor. Step by step. Slowly and steadily. The staircase trembled again. It would not remain intact for long. Obi-Wan, struggling for air, clasped Anakin tightly to his chest, feeling the boy tremble against him even as the steps shivered beneath them. An ominous rumble, increasing steadily in volume...the whole staircase would collapse around them if they did not get clearly quickly. Five more steps...four...three...  
The staircase collapsed.  
Kenobi leaped.  
Hit the ground, stumbled, landed heavily, threw Anakin forward and out of danger as he did so. Lay stunned for a moment, blue-green eyes open and fixed on nothing, filling with dust, until a strong arm slipped beneath his shoulders and dragged him to his feet. It was Sendar Varen.  
"Anakin..." Obi-Wan managed to croak, his throat raw. For answer Varen jerked his head in the direction of the outer gardens, where a first aid station had been set up to help the survivors. Obi-Wan nodded, relieved, then shook his head as Varen tried to lead him out of the building.  
"I'm...all right."  
Sendar frowned, but there was no time to argue. Together the Jedi plunged back into the smog. The Kreanon survivors were largely accounted for now; the Knights could search for their colleagues.   
Closing his stinging eyes, Obi-Wan reached out with the Force, feeling Sendar do the same beside him. He could sense the others - Lanna, Arik and Rayoo. At least one of them was badly injured, but all three were alive. Simultaneously the Knights broke their meditative trance and headed in the direction of what had been the First Minister's office.  
Their senses had not led them wrong; dimly through the smog Obi-Wan could make out a tall, thin figure, stooped over something on the ground - Varen's Padawan learner, Arik. Drawing closer, Kenobi realised, with a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, that the 'something' Arik was bending over was Master Lanna - and that she was dying. Sendar gave a strangled moan and dropped to his knees beside the motionless Jedi. Lanna had been crushed by a falling beam; her eyes were open but unseeing, and a thin trickle of black blood dribbled from her lips. Beside, and partly beneath her mangled body was the unconscious form of her thirteen year old Padawan, Rayoo - clearly she had been fatally injured trying to save him. Arik, in between anxious glances at his grief-stricken master, was attempting to free the young boy without hurting him. After a struggle he succeeded, lifted the small body, and turned to Varen, his wide grey eyes speaking volumes...they should leave, nothing could be done for Lanna, it would benefit them nothing to sacrifice themselves. Sound advice, but Sendar was beyond understanding. Obi-Wan, unable to speak, gestured urgently to Arik, commanding the younger man to leave at once and get himself and Rayoo out of the building. After a moment's hesitation, gazing at his master, Arik did as he was instructed.   
With the Padawans out of danger Kenobi could concentrate on Sendar, who was now struggling to lift the beam from Lanna's broken body. He would not leave without her, that much was clear. Obi-Wan glanced at the heavy piece of aged wood, but it was huge; if Varen, far taller than Obi-Wan and twice his weight, could not physically move it, the younger Knight was quite certain that he himself had no hope of doing so. Instead he grasped Varen's shoulder, trying to tell him that they should move the beam together using the Force; Kenobi could not even gasp out the words, his throat and lungs felt as though they were on fire. Sendar, thankfully, understood the wordless suggestion, and stepped back from Lanna. Once more the Knights meditated together, focussing their respective strengths on the beam...which began, slowly to rise...not much, but enough. Obi-Wan touched Sendar's shoulder again, signalling that he could hold the beam in place if Varen moved quickly. Understanding, the older man released his Force-hold on the beam and snatched Lanna's body from beneath it a split second before Obi-Wan's strength gave out and the heavy wood crashed back to the ground.   
Varen placed his breathing mask over Lanna's bloodied face and, cradling her in his powerful arms, ran for the outer gardens, Obi-Wan stumbling dazedly behind him. The younger Jedi's strength was rapidly failing; he was desperately short of breath, and losing blood from a gouge in his arm he had not even noticed in the chaos. He slowed, staggered, losing sight of Sendar in the smog. Eventually he could go no further, falling to his hands and knees and finally collapsing completely into the blood-soaked dust. As blackness swept over Obi-Wan like a great swallowing ocean, his second to last thoughts were of Anakin, and what would become of the boy now.  
His final thoughts were of Qui-Gon Jinn. 


	2. Living Force

A/N Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far! Hope you like the next part. This story will get darker as it goes on.  
  
denotes telepathic speech.  
  
  
"Master! I found the supplies you..." The boy fell silent in amazement at the sight before him. Qui-Gon Jinn was kneeling on the forest floor, and standing in front of him, placid and apparently utterly unafraid, was a beautiful, delicate creature with dappled brown fur, huge dewy eyes, and slender, tapering legs. It stood perhaps as high as the thirteen year old Padawan; thus it was dwarfed, like Obi-Wan, by the tall Jedi Master. Despite this, it gazed at Qui-Gon without fear, and with something very like adoration.  
  
Obi-Wan froze, not daring to go any closer, for fear the animal might bolt. Qui-Gon, however, looking up, beckoned to his Padawan, stroking the lovely creature's soft nose with his other hand. Tentatively Obi-Wan approached, moving slowly and quietly, his gaze riveted to the beast. Reaching his master, he stood shyly by, watching as Qui-Gon petted his new friend.  
  
"Touch her." The master suggested. Obi-Wan hesitated; he doubted somehow that the lovely thing would like him as much as it seemed to like Qui-Gon. Without waiting for the young man's reply, Qui-Gon took his apprentice's small hand in his own and directed it towards the animal's muzzle. The creature turned its large eyes calmly to Obi-Wan, gazing at him for a long moment, as though judging his worth. Then, slowly, it lowered its head and allowed itself to be petted once more.  
  
"She seems to like you." Murmured Qui-Gon, softly, in the boy's ear. Obi-Wan smiled, still not daring to speak in case he frightened the creature away. After a while he knelt on the ground, as Qui-Gon did - the doe nuzzled his shoulder in a friendly way.  
  
"Did she just...wander up to you?" Whispered the apprentice, finally daring to speak. The doe twitched her ears toward him but did not appear alarmed.  
  
"She was drawn to me through the Living Force." Qui-Gon whispered back, his beard tickling the young man's ear. "She was kind enough to remain here in order to give you a lesson, my young Padawan."  
  
"What sort of lesson, Master?"  
  
"A lesson which cannot be taught in words, or even in thought. A lesson which can only be learned implicitly, and only understood through experience. As you move your hand over the doe's fur, Obi-Wan, reach into the Living Force and try to find her there."  
  
Moments filled with only heartbeats passed, as Obi-Wan tried to do as his master instructed. After a while, he frowned.  
  
"Master, I don't think I understand..."  
  
As he spoke, the doe jerked away from him, and with a last long look at Qui-Gon, disappeared into the forest. Confused and saddened, Obi-Wan gazed helplessly at his master. He felt that Qui-Gon must be disappointed in him. But the man was smiling.  
  
"You did well, for your first real attempt at understanding the Living Force; our friend chose to remain with you, and clearly saw something special in you. You are strong in the Unifying Force, Obi-Wan, but there is more to being a Jedi than that, and more to life than books and training can teach you. To understand life, my Padawan, you have to embrace it, and *live*."  
  
Live.  
  
Qui-Gon's deep voice faded out slowly, and a new voice, neither melodic, nor familiar, nor loved, began to fade in.   
  
"Not yet!" It snapped. A cold, female voice.  
  
"I just want to see him..." *This* voice was familiar, and welcome, despite its whining tone. The angry sound of a cocky young man denied that to which he considers himself entitled.   
  
"He is healing. You will leave him alone, boy, and remove yourself!" The woman growled back.  
  
"Just for a minute..."  
  
"Certainly not! Go away. I do not have time for the foolishness of children."  
  
"I'm not a child!" A definite whine now, making a mocking irony of the claim.  
  
"Anakin..." for a moment, despite Obi-Wan's realisation that this was one of Kreanon's houses of healing, the young knight was certain he was hearing Qui-Gon's voice once again - but only for a split second, before he recognised the bass tones of Sendar Varen. Another familiar, welcome presence.  
  
"Your master needs to rest." The deep voice went on, soothingly, calming the irate boy. Remaining still and keeping his eyes closed, Obi-Wan reached out through the somewhat unstable training bond he had with the youth, and gave it a gentle twitch to get Anakin's attention.  
  
Master...?  
  
Do as Master Varen tells you, Ani. I will speak with you soon. In truth, Obi-Wan felt that extensive speech was unlikely for some time - his throat was sore, his chest aching. He wondered how long he had lain here - perhaps only a few hours, judging from the rawness of his injuries. But Anakin was safe, his boisterousness apparently quite unaffected by his experience, and that was the most important thing.  
  
Obi-Wan remained inert until Anakin had (reluctantly) left the room, then waited patiently for the hard-voiced female healer to remove herself as well. When finally he was left alone with Varen, Kenobi opened his eyes.  
  
And immediately closed them again against the sudden explosion of colour. Apparently Kreanon healers had a much different idea of what constituted a soothing way to paint a sickroom than the Jedi healers Obi-Wan was used to.  
  
"How are you feeling?" Varen asked, keeping his voice to a low, calming pitch.  
  
"I've been better, which does not give you an excuse to coddle me." His voice, as he had feared, was a croaking travesty of its normal smoothness. Obi-Wan daringly opened one eye. The horribly painted walls had not, unfortunately, been a product of his imagination. Was there something wrong with his visual system?  
  
"Everything's...pink." He muttered.  
  
"Yes." Agreed Sendar, seemingly unconcerned.  
  
"Hmph."  
  
The older Jedi smiled slightly. "It's been seven hours since the tragedy. You had us worried for about half an hour - but these healers really know what they're doing, even if they are a little unapproachable."  
  
"The First Family?" Obi-Wan managed to mutter.  
  
"Dead...except for Kohhlius' second son, Kohhlianus. He's severely injured, but alive - at the moment, at least. He has a fifty-fifty chance of survival."  
  
"So much destruction." Obi-Wan whispered. "Purposeless..."  
  
"I know. Try not to speak."  
  
Obi-Wan, despite the slight haze caused by the healer's drugs, was careful to avoid the subject of Lanna. He knew she must be dead - even had he not seen her broken form, the grief radiating from Sendar would have told him. But that pain was too new, too raw to be shared. Varen must find his own path through sorrow before he could express it and release it into the Force.  
  
Taking a deep breath with difficulty, Obi-Wan managed a final question.  
  
"Arik...Rayoo?"  
  
"Arik's fine - he never ceases to amaze me. He has more self-possession than any Padawan in the Temple. As for Rayoo...he's still unconscious, but he'll make a full recovery." Varen stopped short of mentioning Lanna, of accepting that he would have to tell a thirteen-year-old apprentice that his master was dead. Obi-Wan, understanding, nodded briefly in acknowledgement. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his eyes from closing. Gently, Sendar patted the younger man's shoulder.  
  
"Go to sleep, Obi-Wan. I'll keep you informed of any developments, don't worry."  
  
Another nod, and a faint, grateful smile, was all Kenobi could manage before he drifted back into dreams. Sendar Varen stood gazing down at him with relief and affection for a few moments before tucking the horrendously coloured bedclothes around him, and slipping silently from the room.  
  
Unsurprisingly, Obi-Wan's young Padawan was hovering outside, hopping from foot to foot with his typical youthful energy. He stared fixedly at Varen as he closed the door, his face eager.  
  
"Is he okay? Can I see him now?"  
  
"Not yet, Ani. He's sleeping."  
  
"I know, I can sense it."  
  
Sendar smiled to himself at this evidence of the increasingly effective training bond between young Kenobi and his apprentice.  
  
"Of course you can - and I suppose you can also sense how tired your master is, so perhaps we'd better leave him to get some rest, hmm?"  
  
"I wasn't going to wake him up." Muttered the boy, a little sulkily, but he gave up arguing anyway. Arguing with Varen was something like repeatedly running headfirst into a brick wall. If it came to it, Varen would give up on logical debate and simply fall silent, smiling and shaking his head as though he knew something the other person did not, until his opponent gave up in despair.   
  
Sendar put a hand on Anakin's shoulder and steered him in the direction of the quarters the boy had been allocated, since their rooms in the Senate building had, of course, been destroyed. They walked in companionable silence, Anakin having apparently forgotten any animosity. As Varen was about to leave him at the entrance to his rooms, the boy looked up shyly.  
  
"Master Sendar? I'm really sorry about Master Lanna."  
  
Sendar swallowed, struggling to keep the emotion from his voice as he replied simply,  
  
"Thank you, Ani. Go and get some rest now."   
  
The boy gave him a sweet, sad smile, and disappeared into the small but functional room he would share with Obi-Wan, if he ever managed to escape the healers. Sendar, who had originally planned to seek out his own Padawan and enquire how the young man's interviews with Kreanon's Panel of Lesser Ministers were progressing, found himself heading back to the solitude of his own rooms. Once inside, he fell to his knees beside the bed, and sought the peace of meditation.  
  
It refused to come - the only thoughts which flowed willingly into his mind were of Lanna, Lanna who had been his Padawan, ten years ago; Lanna, who had been so excited about taking on her own first apprentice; Lanna, who now lay still and cold in a mortuary on an alien world where she was unknown, and unloved.   
  
Clasping his hands together, vision blurred by tears, Varen murmured, "The precious gift given by the Force has returned from whence it came. May you find peace in the undying unity of the Force, my Padawan."  
  
This said, meditation came more easily, and for a while Varen was able to suppress his grief, if not to forget.   
  
  
  
  
A/N please review - by the way, the switch from Obi-Wan's to Sendar's POV was intentional, and will probably happen quite often. Sorry if it's a little confusing, it seems to come as a feature of the style!   
  
I'd especially like to know what readers think of Sendar Varen, so far. We meet Arik and Rayoo in the next chapter. 


	3. Politicians are not to be trusted

A/N Thanks for all your reviews so far!! Please continue to tell me what you think, I'm still new to this universe. ;-)  
  
There was pandemonium in the town hall.  
  
The boy could hear it as he hurried through the cold street, his robe pulled tightly around him, gasping a little, since the smell of dust and fumes still lingered in the night air.  
  
So cold...Anakin hated the cold. He had never really got used to it and doubted he ever would, but he had learned, at least, to suppress his discomfort; Obi-Wan frowned upon complaints of any kind. Anakin wondered whether his master would be at the meeting; technically, Obi-Wan was supposed to be recuperating in hospital, but the Jedi Master had insisted that he would attend at the town hall with the others, and, as Anakin was repeatedly informed, master always knew best. Then again, from the snatches of conversation the boy had eavesdropped upon between Master Yoda and Master Windu, Obi-Wan had known best even as an apprentice.  
  
Anakin rounded the corner, his thoughts interrupted by fresh indignant roars from the town hall, where the Lesser Ministers, all that remained of Kreanon's government, were assembled, along with the Jedi investigators, ostensibly to 'discuss' the tragic events of yesterday. From the sound of it there was far too much shouting and yelling going on for anything to be actually achieved.   
  
A large crowd of people blocked Anakin's way, some arguing and shouting themselves, others huddled together in anxious silence trying to hear what was being said inside the building. The Jedi apprentice pushed his way as quickly as he could through the chaotic group, ignoring the tugs on his robe from numerous angry Kreanons, and was finally able to shove open the heavy wooden door of the town hall and slip inside. He slammed the door firmly behind him, almost bisecting a large Kreanon male who struggled to get through it in his wake.   
  
Shivering, Anakin followed the yelling to an enormous pair of double-doors, thick and ornately carved. He frowned. If the noise was getting so clearly through such thick wood, what would it sound like inside? Doubting the usefulness of knocking, the young man simply pushed open one of the doors and poked his head around it.  
  
The room was huge, grandly decorated, with a high, curtained stage at the front, and many rows of old and beautiful wooden chairs bolted to the sloping floor. Currently most of the chairs were empty; ten or so Ministers sat in the front row, looking unhappy, while another dozen were standing, shouting and shaking their fists furiously at one another. The stage was empty, and at first Anakin could see no sign of the other Jedi, though he was quite sure they were there somewhere...entering the room fully, careful to keep back and quiet, he scanned the scene carefully, and finally spotted an oversize alcove off to the left. It was mostly hidden behind a sweeping purple curtain, but Anakin could just make out what looked like Master Sendar's arm peeking out. The boy suppressed a giggle at the thought of two venerable Jedi Masters and a senior Padawan hiding behind a curtain, but he could hardly blame them for not wanting to get involved with the Ministers' bickering.  
  
Said bickering had its advantages - it allowed Anakin to sneak unnoticed across the room and slip behind the purple curtain. To his surprise, what he had taken for an alcove was actually a small sitting room - there was a coffee table and two comfortable-looking chairs, set in front of a large bay window, complete with window-seat. Anakin paid little attention to the décor, however; his gaze fell at once upon his master. Obi-Wan was sitting in one of the chairs, looking rather pale and ragged, but maintaining his usual cool dignity nonetheless. Sendar Varen stood behind Obi-Wan's chair with a hand resting on the back of it, in a rather protective manner. Arik was perched on the window-seat, looking perfectly calm and at ease despite the roaring going on only a few metres away. Surprisingly, Rayoo was also present, sitting in the other armchair, his small, pale face sullen, and his eyes very red...Anakin felt a touch of pity for this poor kid, who had lost his master so early in his training, almost before it had begun, really. Sendar kept throwing little glances at Rayoo, as though to gauge how he was holding up, but the boy's expression was hard to read.   
  
Anakin bowed politely to Master Varen, nodded to Arik and smiled awkwardly at Rayoo, who failed to even acknowledge it, before setting himself down on the arm of Obi-Wan's chair.  
  
"Hi, Master."  
  
"Padawan." Replied the other, evenly. Obi-Wan looked unusually stressed, as well as tired; he closed his eyes and winced every so often, obviously suffering from a nasty headache.  
  
"I could hear them yelling down the street." Remarked Anakin, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of the politicians, having to speak loudly himself to be heard over the continuing din of the Ministers' arguments.  
  
"That doesn't surprise me in the least." Obi-Wan sighed. He rubbed his forehead wearily. "So could we, when we arrived an hour ago. They have been here since this morning, roaring at one another, and appear to have reached precisely no consensus whatsoever. They failed to notice us when we entered, and we've been sitting here listening to their caterwauling ever since. Did you find the data?"  
  
Anakin had been late for the meeting - which was a blessing from the boy's point of view - because, under Varen's direction, he had spent the afternoon downloading information about Kreanon political protocols, in order to help the Jedi employ proper procedure in assisting with the investigation; that was, if they ever got a word in edgewise.   
  
"There's quite a lot of stuff, master - it's all very complicated." He handed over the half-a-dozen datapads on which the details were stored. Obi-Wan looked at them sadly for a moment, then passed them to Sendar, who glanced briefly at the first few pages, then handed the lot promptly to Arik.  
  
"Researching the appropriate protocols will be your responsibility, Padawan."  
  
"Yes, Master." Replied the young man, seemingly unperturbed. He put the data down next to him, leaned back, and closed his eyes. Anakin realised with disbelief that he was meditating. How was that *possible*? His estimation of Arik rose a little, despite the senior Padwan's surprising lack of skill - and apparent lack of interest - in sparring.  
  
"Is there anything in the information you found that'll tell us how to get them to stop?" Varen asked Anakin, leaning over to speak directly into the boy's ear. Master Sendar hated shouting.  
  
"I don't know, Master...it was all a bit confusing." The boy grinned wryly. "I guess if you activated your lightsabre it might get their attention."  
  
Obi-Wan frowned disapprovingly, but Sendar merely grinned.  
  
"I dare say it would." The Grandmaster murmured. "However, I think we'll keep that as a last resort, eh? Arik - start reading."  
  
Face expressionless, Arik opened his eyes, scooped up the first of the pads and began to quickly run through the information, balancing the datapad elegantly on his knee. An especially loud roar erupted suddenly from one of the Ministers, and Arik glanced up, looking mildly exasperated for the first time, his furry ears flattening against his skull. Anakin could have sworn he heard the senior apprentice mutter,   
  
"Cretin."  
  
Before he went back to his reading. The young man hid a smile; even Arik's legendary self-possession could be tested by the spectacle of fretful politicians doing their usual trick of furious procrastination in the face of disaster. He was not the only one - Obi-Wan was staring fixedly over Arik's shoulder out of the window, his eyes glazed. Kenobi disliked and distrusted politicians at the best of times, and the Kreanon ministers were a prime example of the reason for that.  
  
Arik was zipping through the information in the datapads with alarming efficiency. Along with meditation, research was the senior Padawan's chief skill - he assisted in the teaching of several data-collection classes in the Temple, and worked in the Archives in his own time, not that there was a great deal of that available. Anakin could not understand why someone would want to specialise in meditation and information gathering when they could be learning katas or how to fly a speeder. Arik wasn't good at either - he was good enough, but far from superlative. Ani was quite sure he could best the much older youth easily in both disciplines...he smiled to himself at the thought of Obi-Wan's reaction if he knew that his padawan thought of flying as a 'discipline'; to the master, it was a necessary evil.  
  
It was with surprise that Anakin noticed he had all but tuned out the ministers' shouting; then he realised that the reason he could no longer hear it was because it had stopped. The most senior of the Lesser Ministers, Morviannus, Chief of Security, was the only one still standing - had he killed the others or something? No - they were all sitting down, amazingly, in complete silence. They, like Morviannus, were glaring expectantly at the group of puzzled Jedi.  
"Well?" Demanded the security minister.  
  
"I beg your pardon, Minister?" Sendar asked politely.   
  
"I invited your leader to come before us and explain the complete failure of your group to prevent yesterday's disaster!"  
  
Anakin bristled - Lanna had been *killed*, Obi-Wan had been badly hurt, Rayoo was bereaved, and the Kreanon ministers were accusing the Jedi of dereliction of duty? Sendar, as a grandmaster, was spokesperson for the group, and replied calmly to Morviannus,  
  
"I would be glad to speak before you. Please give us a short recess in which to prepare ourselves. Arik," he hissed, as Morviannus sat down heavily in a chair, muttering to himself, "get me something I can use!"  
  
The senior padawan serenely selected one of the collection of datapads, scrolled to a certain page and handed the pad to his master.  
  
"The next twelve pages or so give some useful advice on protocols for addressing political gatherings, master. And starting on the five hundred and seventeenth page of *this* pad, I believe," he held out another, "is information on how to...ah, wriggle out of awkward situations without overstepping the boundaries of Kreanon speechmaking procedures."  
  
"Arik, we do not need to 'wriggle out' of this situation. We have done everything we can..."  
  
"With respect, my master, the Lesser Ministers will not see it that way. When I spoke to them yesterday, considerable hostility was expressed towards us, especially on the part of Morviannus and Jevisannia, the Minister for Public Relations. The prevailing opinion is that we are to blame for the death of the First Minister."  
  
"And you couldn't have told me this yesterday?" Sendar demanded, more wearily than with annoyance, as he scrolled glumly through the datapads.  
  
"You had other things to consider yesterday, master." Arik replied smoothly. Varen sighed, shrugged, handed one of the datapads to Obi-Wan.  
  
"This calls for teamwork, I think."  
  
"If you're suggesting some kind of good-cop-bad-cop scenario..."  
  
"I know, it sounds utterly foolish, forget I even thought of it."  
  
"I was only going to say - can I be the bad cop?"  
  
Sendar chuckled.  
  
"By all means. Now, let's..."  
"Actually, masters, if I may interrupt..." Arik interposed fluidly. Sendar nodded, and Anakin felt a touch of jealousy - if he had interrupted a grandmaster like that, even Master Sendar, he would have been put in his place immediately.  
  
"The approach you suggest, while simple and usually inadvisable in delicate political situations, is not an unreasonable one here. Kreanon politics is rather more...vigorous...and open than in most cultures."  
  
"They don't stab you in the back, they hit you over the head with a brick." Obi-Wan agreed.  
  
"Precisely. Thus a blunt technique would not be a bad one in this case, in my opinion."  
  
"Thank you, Arik." Sendar smiled warmly at his padawan. So did Obi-Wan - or at least as warmly as he ever did these days - and Anakin felt a little put out again. It seemed sometimes that Obi-Wan was friendly and uncritical when it came to everyone except his own padawan.   
  
"Is there anything else I can do, Master?" Anakin asked hopefully, making one last attempt at being appreciated.  
  
"No, I don't think so. Simply watch and learn." Came Obi-Wan's brisk reply. Anakin was momentarily disappointed - but then he noticed that the Lesser Ministers were still sitting in the front row, glaring at the Jedi, and that some of them had their arms folded; the boy decided being a spectator was probably the safest position.  
  
"Good luck." He whispered, as Master Sendar and Obi-Wan headed for the stage. Obi-Wan gave him a wry look before pasting on an expression of respectful placidity that rather resembled Arik's.   
  
The glares of the ministers followed the two Jedi as they slipped past the glowering Morviannus and mounted the stage. Sendar cleared his throat, tucked his large hands inside his cloak, and began his hastily-prepared address, with Obi-Wan standing by, his expression already changing from serene to sardonic.  
  
"Noble protectors of the people of Kreanon," Varen began, feigning impressive familiarity with the protocols his padawan had directed him to only a few minutes before - whoever said guile was not in the repertoire of a Jedi? "We, guests of Kreanon, pledge ourselves to your honour."  
  
Anakin grinned at that, mostly because he could almost hear his master thinking, what in Sith's hells does *that* mean?  
  
"We stand before you, offering our condolences in the face of the tragedy Kreanon has suffered, prepared to support you in any way we can."  
  
"I think," growled a large woman sitting next to Morviannus - Anakin suspected she was Jevisannia - "that the Jedi have provided sufficient *support* already. *Support*, gentlemen, which has deprived us of our First Minister."   
"With all respect, Madame Minister..." began Sendar, but Obi-Wan, slipping easily into his pre-prepared role, interrupted him.  
  
"I object most strongly to that accusation! We have suffered our own losses, and may I remind you that those losses resulted from our attempts to rescue survivors - including some of you -" several heads lowered as Kenobi's green eyes coldly swept the room, "for which I would *think* you might extend some gratitude."  
  
"May I remind *you*, master Jedi," Javisannia sneered, "that your so *terribly* helpful rescue attempts would not have been necessary had you successfully completed the job you came here to do! You were brought in to protect Kohhlius and prevent the second assassination attempt we were expecting. You were also mandated to contact the terrorist group our security forces identified as the culprits in the first attempt," Morviannus was nodding vigorously, "and mediate talks between that group and the government. You have done neither of these things, and now the First Minister is dead as a result of the incompetence of the Jedi."  
  
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to argue, but it was clear that the man Anakin had once only half-humorously suggested should be nominated for a 'Special Award for Most Sarcastic Jedi Master', had met his match in Javisannia, who possessed the remarkable ability to talk for many minutes not only without stopping, but apparently, without breathing. She went on, leaving Obi-Wan looking like a bewildered beached fish, with his mouth open and a slightly glassy look in his eyes.  
  
"I believe that I was among the chief objectors to involving off-worlders, especially a group of obsolete meddlers like the Jedi, in Kreanon affairs. Because of the supposed need for neutral mediators in our pointless negotiations with the terrorists, I was cried down. Now, given that my misgivings have been thoroughly confirmed, I recommend the removal of the Jedi from Kreanon. We will settle this affair ourselves!"  
  
A second eruption of shouting and fist-waving met this bold speech, as half the Lesser Ministers leapt to their feet again for another round of roaring. Sendar Varen and Obi-Wan Kenobi stood helplessly on the stage, staring at one another, as the meeting dissolved once more into chaos around them. There seemed no alternative but to sit down and wait until someone won the argument, or the ministers simply exhausted themselves. The Jedi made their way back to the padawans, carefully skirting the gaggle of howling politicians.  
  
"I think I'm going to go mad." Obi-Wan told Anakin, in a worryingly cheerful voice.  
  
"It'll be okay, master - they have to stop soon." The boy soothed.  
  
"I suppose they'll die eventually." Agreed Obi-Wan, acidly, and dropped ill-humouredly into an armchair. Sendar perched on the window-seat next to Arik, who appeared to have gone to sleep. Rayoo, who had neither moved nor spoken since Anakin entered the room, continued to brood in the depths of his chair, occasionally flicking a look of angry disgust towards the bickering ministers.  
  
Minutes passed slowly - but just as Anakin was about to suggest they give up and leave, the double-doors at the end of the hall swung open - and a tall but stooped figure appeared, a Kreanon male leaning heavily on a cane, his yellow eyes full of grief and weariness, but also a deeply affecting determination. The First Minister's son, Kohhlianus. He spied the group of Jedi as he entered, and nodded crisply to them before heading directly for the stage. The Lesser Ministers failed to notice him at first; however, it was likely that the whole city heard when Kohhlianus picked up a voice amplifier and roared,  
  
"SILENCE!"  
  
And silence there was - immediate, unbroken, dead silence. Morviannus and Javisannia, who had been doing most of the shouting, dropped into their seats like stones; those shyer ministers who were already sitting cowered.   
  
"You will all listen to me." Kohhlianus went on, much more quietly. "My father is dead; my mother and brothers are dead. I am the only surviving member of the First Family. In crisis situations, the First Minister is guaranteed emergency powers. This is no time for political wrangles and re-elections. Hence, I am assuming the position of First Minister and all powers accorded to that post."  
  
This remarkable statement was met only with more silence, broken only - and very slightly - by Obi-Wan, who shook his head in disbelief and could be heard to mutter, is a disgusted undertone,  
  
"Politicians!"  
  
Kohhlianus did not hear him, and likely would not have cared if he had. The tall Kreanon allowed a few moments for his logical staccatos to sink in, then asked calmly,  
  
"Any objections?"  
  
Some small mutterings among the ministers, but not one of them said a word.  
  
"This is not an autocratic society and I have no intention of making it so." Kohhlianus went on, with the air of a man who knows he is going to get whatever he wants, "hence, I will put my proposition formally to the vote. All those in favour, say aye."  
  
Only the briefest of pauses before nearly every voice in the room called,  
  
"Aye!"  
  
Kohhlianus smiled tightly. "All those against, say nay."  
  
There was silence for a long moment. Kohhlianus opened his mouth to speak again, but, as he did so, a single voice from the front row said clearly,  
  
"Nay."   
It was Morviannus, Chief of Security. And next to him, Javisannia muttered,  
  
"I abstain."  
  
A pause, brief but pregnant, in which Kohhlianus eyed the pair.  
  
"Very well. The motion is carried - not anonymously, but by a majority vote. I declare myself First Minister of Kreanon Prime, and pledge myself to the cause of the people."  
  
A burst of applause from the Lesser Ministers, with the exceptions of Morviannus and Javisannia, who exchanged meaningful looks. When the applause had died down, the new First Minister turned his attention to the Jedi, who were looking on with no little amazement.  
  
"As First Minister, I wish to officially thank the Jedi for their assistance to date, and beg them to renew their offer of aid in the face of this tragedy - if accepted, their new mandate would be to seek out the killers of my father, bring them to justice, and negotiate a peaceful settlement with the terrorist group for which the assassins doubtless worked."  
  
In the shocked silence that followed, Sendar Varen rose to his feet.  
  
"We would be glad to offer whatever assistance we can, First Minister." He declared. Kohhlianus bowed formally.  
  
"I thank you."  
  
"Yes, thank you so much." Muttered Obi-Wan to Sendar, who merely grinned at him. The crowd of Lesser Ministers dispersed at a command from Kohhlianus, who descended the stage and approached the Jedi.  
  
"Your assistance means a great deal to the Kreanon people." He lied.  
  
"We are honoured to provide it." 


End file.
